chaperon."

"She's been that as far back as I can remember, and I believe a most
excellent one. Suzanne, I know, loves me."

"I'm sure of it. I don't blame her."

"Look how the snow is leaping up against the window, Mr. John! Ah,
Suzanne is ahead of your prediction! She's coming now."

Suzanne stood in the doorway. John surmised from her look that her
distrust, at least in a mild form, had sent her there.

"Now that your maid can be with you," he said, "I think I'll take
another look at the front of the hotel. Possibly, a new guest has
arrived and registered since we last saw the bureau. Will you excuse me
for a few minutes, Miss Julie?"

John was merely impelled by a sense of duty to take a look about the
hotel, not that he expected to find anything, but because a good soldier
should never neglect his scouting operations. He went first into the
little lobby at the entrance, where the offices were. Antoine had
lighted a candle and left it on the desk of the bureau. Otherwise he
could have seen little in the room as the twilight was advancing fast,
and the white gloom, made by the falling snow, was shading into gray.

He opened the front door. There was nothing in the street. The tower of
the cathedral was almost hidden by the storm and the twilight and the
gaunt ruins of the houses, covered now with snow, looked inexpressibly
dreary and lonely. The dismal spectacle without heightened the bright